


Fragile Imperfections

by Meowspawn



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Child Abuse, Daryl lives with Merle who is a decent brother, Drug Use, F/F, FTM Daryl, Graphic Violence, Homophobia, M/M, Non-Consensual Touching, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Sexual Assault, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Underage Drinking, and have unhealthy thinking/coping methods, dumb teenagers in love, so beware and tw for that, this will be pretty dark in some chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowspawn/pseuds/Meowspawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixion ripped into his life like a rain storm, angry and passionate. His whole life of focusing on college applications and being the golden kid seemed so far away because this boy was the opposite of that. While he was used to 10 o'clock curfews and a sip of Champaign at his cousins wedding Daryl was freedom without caring and downing a bottle of whiskey in the woods, it was like comparing tea to coffee. Black coffee. Spiked black coffee. And right then and there Rick was ready to lay down everything he ever knew for a day on the back of the other's rumbling black motorcycle.<br/>Daryl would make the world fall and crumble around him, but he was more than willing to sacrifice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. [12 years before]

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fanfic I've ever had the guts to actually post. Woo! Not sure where this is really going so, enjoy this mess of bad writing about sad teens.
> 
> The first couple chapters are going to be set in Daryl's life before he meets Rick but there will be Rickyl in later chapters.
> 
>  
> 
> Triggers for this chapter: Implied child abuse, Death, Alcoholism

**_May 30th, 12 years ago  
_ **

 

 

 

At the gentle age of 5 the world was full of imagination and growing, every day was another adventure. Kids were supposed to laugh and their biggest worry to be what type of ice-cream they wanted. Butterflies in jars, G.I. Joe, and stuffed animals. Except sometimes those things weren't an option, sometimes the damage was done already in such a short amount of time. Cigarette smoke instead of bubbles and the stench if alcohol on the breath replacing forehead kisses. Darleena was fierce, she was born and raised to be, fire burned in her eyes and she radiated stubbornness. Even at such a young age she could create the perfect scowl and shrug off any remark thrown her way, good or bad. Her hair was cut short with kitchen scissors or hunting knifes, done late at night and paid for the next day in bruises and tears. The blue eyes she adorned were as sharp as a needle and colder than any winter she'd ever lived through. Wearing hand-me-downs and a brave face she carried herself stronger than any grown man, her bruised knuckles worn like a medal and expression daring anyone to challenge her. She was a cocktail of one part sadness three parts beautiful.

 

***

 

"Merle, please take me with you." A small girl pleaded, hands wrapped around her brothers torso. Merle was packing his bags with the meager pile of clothing shoved in their shared room. The area was dark with once-white walls, now stained yellow from smoke just as their parents teeth had with time. Just two mattresses laying on opposite sides of the room and a nearly empty dresser, barren and unlived in would be two good words to describe it. After all, if asked, both would say the forest was more of a home than their house ever was. Soft moss and the sound of animal life was more welcoming than a heavy leather belt and screamed words.

"I can't baby sister, yknow that. C'mon, give ole Merle a hug 'cause you wont be seein' him for a lil while." The older boy scooped Darleena up in his arms, swinging her around before placing her back on solid group and crouch to be eye level. "Now you be good, don't wanna hear you up an' joined a gang or became an arms dealer while I's been gone, y'hear me?"

The smaller girl laughed and punched his arm."Yeah right!"

He smiled down at her as he raised back to his full height. A quick ruffle of her unevenly cut hair and he was trudging out the front door again, gone like he always was. She was alone again and no one was there to keep the monsters at bay.

 

***

 

Most days were spent on a schedule of wake up, school, hide in the woods, sleep, rinse and repeat. Her Pa spent more nights than not away since Merle left, drinking or gambling. She overheard her Ma crying on the phone, telling her aunt that he hadn't been home in a week and was having an affair with the blonde from the bar down the road. It was too quiet except for the time just before bed where Marylyn Dixon sat down on the edge of her mattress and sang the same song over and over until Darleena fell into a restless sleep. Life was alright.

 

***

 

Merle didn't walk back through that door until the day their Ma went up in smoke like the rest of their home. Marylyn was an image of pure beauty before she was married. The old pictures that survived the fire proved that. Her long dark hair was straight as an arrow and fell to the bottom of her ribs, her eyes that matched her children's standing out against the deep brown locks. Her body was slim but shapely and her face an image of something too beautiful to belong in this awful world. Any man would have married her given the chance, and they'd be damn lucky to, so it was so confusing that she would settle down with Will Dixon. The woman with a honey sweet voice that sung her kids to sleep every night to the same tune was trapped with an alcoholic, drug addict, abusing piece of shit. And that seemed so utterly unfair to Darleena. Even if she never would have been born that way she wished her Ma could have married a nice man and lived to be old and happy. She despised her fathers blood running through her veins anyways. The years following at taken a toll on the woman, anyone could see that. Where there used to be an hourglass figure and full cheeks had turned into something akin to a skeleton with ribs jutting out and jaw much too sharp against her thin neck. The sun kissed skin was pale and purple galaxies bloomed along the boney body like a reminder. Those singing lungs must have looked pretty awful too if you considered the two packs a day and awful wheeze when she ran too much. Too bad she couldn't make it a couple more miles, a few more to cross the border and disappear.

 

***

 

The kids all around her were gawking as she ran up the hill, shouting and the sound of sirens were deafening as her legs moved on their own accord. Please don't be my house, please don't be my house- oh god please tell me she wasn't in there. The others were on bikes but she had to trust her legs to carry her, just a little farther until the place she had not called home but had resided in for her whole life cane into view. Police cars and fire trucks crowded around a lone ambulance but not enough to hide it from sight. Not enough to blind her of the scene, two paramedics pushing a cot with a still body bag perched on top. Her vision blurred as her breathing sped up, suddenly the smoke was too thick and she was choking on it. All she could imagine the smell to be was her mother, nothing but flames, burning, burning away. Darleena had never felt so alone before as the other children looked on.

 

***

 

It was two hours later that Merle showed up, the two didn't let go of each other for a long time. Darleena swore never to touch a cigarette in her life when they found the cause of the fire. She dry heaved smoke for days later when nothing else would come up.

 

***

 

The only way she agreed to enter that church was if Merle was there the whole time by her side. The car ride was long and the silence deafening but only when they pushed through the doors did she truly want to break down.

"Hang in there." Merle leaned down to whisper in her ear.

She gave a sharp nod, balling her fist before pushing on to sit on a front pew, the urn containing all that was left of Marylyn sitting only a few feet away. A few people sat scattered throughout the remaining pews, her aunt Lila, an old highschool friend, and some townsfolk. Darleena had almost forgotten how isolated her father had made their mother, blocking her off from loved ones must have been a speciality of his if the small crowd was anything to go by. She managed to zone out after that, eclipsing herself in the darkest corner of her mind until it was all over.

It wasn't until her Dad, Merle, and herself were out in the forest standing in front of a makeshift cross did they scatter the ashes. She thought her mother might like it better that way, to be ash scattered on the ground, free. She did like to smoke after all.


	2. [6 years before]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these first two have been pretty short, I'm aiming for the chapters after all these [before] ones to be twice as long.
> 
> This chapter has unsafe binding in it, please never use any type of unsafe binding, use a real binder or if you can't afford that a sports bra. Be careful and be kind to yourself.
> 
> Tw for some mentioned gender dysphoria and self hate

 August 10th, 6 years ago

 

 

11 years of age brought nothing new but self hatred. Becoming a teenager was right around the corner but she spent her days hiding away in the woods instead of lining her eyes with borrowed makeup or making friends at slumber parties. A crossbow in her shaking hands was much more valuable than a tube of lipstick and catching at least one meal a day more of a concern that talking about crushes. She wore ripped jeans and inhaled the smoke of Merles cigarettes when they drove together, windows up. Her frame was boxy but age was taking a toll, making her fill out with curves she didn't want. This skin was not a home, but a bear trap closed around her neck, suffocating.

 

***

 

"Sis c'mon, ya gotta let me see the bruises i need to know if ya broke somethin er not!" Merle was hollering on the other side of the bathroom door.

Damn the thing for being thin as cardboard, damn the whole trailer for being a piece of shit that smelled like vomit. And fuck it for falling apart, being no different from the last, for that matter. They probably downgraded, the last that blew away from their lives like ash at least had some upkeep. Floorboards creaked and a couple of windows covered with plywood, it was much harder to escape this brand of hell than the last.

Currently Darlene was standing barefoot in the cold bathroom with her shirt lifted to examine the purple bruises adorning her chest and ribs. She had her fair share of broken ribs before, even at 11 but the bruising was dark and her breathing was ragged which sent her in a panic of what ifs. She called Merle as soon as she saw but kept the lock twisted shut and talked to him through the door. Thank god their old man wasn't home with all this noise going on.

"Merle they're on my _chest_. 'M not lettin ya in!" She yelled back with a roll of her eyes.

"Girl, you barely got anythin' there anyways, i gotta see ta know what it is, ya wanna be runnin round with broken ribs an not know or what!"

He did have a point there but that didn't change the fact Darleena was extremely uncomfortable with it. It wasn't even the fact that she had to be shirtless, it was the fact she hated what she had stuck to her chest and didnt want to look at them herself, little lone anyone else see one of the only feminine things about her. She prided herself on her masculine shape and sharp jaw, even if her shoulder length hair made her want to rip it out, she could still confuse people as to what gender she was. Then again she probably wouldn't be able to wear the ace bandages she had been winding around her chest too much the past month again if she didnt figure out what was wrong.

"Fine one sec." She huffed before unlocking the door and backing up. A few seconds later Merle walked in and closed it behind him.

"Right, baby sis, lets see em." He crossed his arms as he waited impatiently. "Don't have money for no damn doctor to look an' say the same thing." As she huffed and pulled off her shirt she saw his face instantly became ridged, his jaw twitching in anger which she didn't understand. What the hell was he mad at her for?

"Somebody touch you there?" He uncrossed his arms to point at her bruised chest.

"Wha- No!" She covered back up with a nearby towel, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Well how tha hell did ya get bruises on yer damn tits then? I swear to god, gimme his name and i'll beat his ass so far inta the groun-"

"Merle! Shut up fer a second!" She growled at him with her almost ever present scowl. "It weren't from no guy, alright. I- I think its 'cause i used these dang bandage things round my chest over night..." They were both quiet for awhile before Merle broke the silence, rummaging through the cupboards for the offending objects.

"Why?" He asked while still looking around.

"Because i wanted these bruises, thought it'd be fun, why the fuck do ya think!" She had no idea why she said that because Merle probably didn't have a clue why.

"Watch yer mouth. A-ha." He said in triumphant when he found the roll of ace bandages. "Ya know these dang things aint for that baby sis, surprised yer still breathin." He chuckled before looking very serious. "You an i gonna have a talk about this yknow."

"Yeah, i know." She sighed. "Least let me put on a shirt first." They both laughed at that before Merle called over his shoulder to meet him on the porch when she was done.

 

***

 

The diagnosis was some bad bruises and a _'you're so fuckin lucky ya didn't puncture a lung or some shit'_. They sat in silence for a long time, Merle taking long sips from the bottle of beer hanging loosely in his hand. She pulled on the hem of her t-shirt before blurting out all that came to her mind in rushed words.

"I-don't-think-i'm-a-chick, i-mean-i-wanna-be-a-boy."

Merle nodded, blank expression on his face, before standing. "I love ya no matter what, but don't tell the old man."

Then he was gone.

***

He, he, he. Darleena played the pronoun over and over again through _his_ head. _I'm a boy, I still need a boys name, but i'm a boy._ He thought with a smile pulling at the edges of his lips for the first time in a long time.

 

***

 

"How about Daryl." Darleena looked up from the bolt he was cleaning with an old rag. Merle stood behind him, newly sharpened scissors in hand giving him the first real 'boys' haircut he ever had. Slices taken out with an old hunting knife at 6 years old didn't count in either of their books.

"Huh?"

"Y'know, ya can't stick with Darleena else no ones gonna think yer a guy, gotta get a manly name. Somethin' strong. Ma was gonna name you that had ya been born a boy, 'member her sayin' that. Was her Daddy's name or somethin." He shrugged, lopping off another chunk of hair, the blonde lock cascading down to the forest floor. "Musta been a real good name 'cause even when the doc brought ya in a pink blanket she named ya the girly version of it."

And that was the day Daryl Dixon was truly born.


	3. 4 years before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy has it been a long time, sorry it's taken so long school has been kicking my ass but i got a really random burst of inspiration tonight so. Any mistakes are mine and try to forgive me this is all written on an ipod.
> 
> Major tw for this chapter: Sexism, homophobia, major transphobia, slurs, graphic violence, abuse mention, underage drinking, drug use, panic attacks, more self hatred, the violence could probably be considered a hate crime. Let me know if i missed any, please skip this chapter if any thing along those lines will trigger you.
> 
> Take care of yourselves.

June 15th, 4 years ago

 

At 13 life wasn't kind to him _(him god damn it)_ and he wasn't kind to life. He looked for any excuse to throw up both middle fingers and curse out whatever had damned him to existing in such a terrible way. The bandages on his sides were soaked through with blood and regret. Cigaretts and alcohol made an appearance and he forgot his promise never to touch the things that destroyed his parents. Forgetting was blissful and maybe, just maybe, he could understand why they tore them selves apart with their own brands of poison.

 

***

 

The party that introduced him to that sort of scene held a lot of firsts. Merle had dragged him out to celebrate, what? He had no idea, but it must have been good with how upbeat his brother was. The air of the place was thick with smoke and heavy with the bass of hardcore rock. The noise hurt his ears and the smoke this throat, reminding him of his mother and god he needed to put those thoughts out. He needed a cigarette, wasn't that sickly ironic. He'd laugh if the bile threatening to escape his throat didn't burn so bad.

Elbows hitting his sides from the passing guests made him flinch and wonder why the fuck he was so broken. All that filled his head after was static noise accompanied by a string of words on repeat. _I need out, i need out, i need out._ But even as his feet hit the lawn he still couldn't breath quiet right, maybe it was the binder digging into his ribs and maybe it was what the school counsellor had told him were panic attacks.

 

***

 

After the first party he tried to avoid ever going to them again, but with Merle as a brother it was inevitable that a few months later he was in a similar scene, luckily it was much smaller and a little less loud. The first time he drank it was with Merle and his buddies, the taste was bitter and he later learned it hung in his mouth for days after. A shot handed to him in passing here, a glass shoved in his hand there. It felt like he was drinking fire and the smell was like chemicals. How could something this disgusting make people feel so damn happy. Well, most people, he knew from experience some took their booze with a shot of anger.

Merle disappeared with a chipper blonde an hour after getting there, making obscene gestures and winking as he walked out the door. The guys his brother called friends were all at least 10 years older than Daryl and with one giving him looks and calling him a 'pretty lil thing' when they ran into each other earlier he was on edge. Now alone in the unfamiliar scene he paced restlessly and drank more than he should have in hindsight, though he did have the brains to turn down any little pills sent his way. Only thing he took was a cigarette when it was handed to him. All he could taste were the scars on his body and all he could smell was his past house burning to ash. He vomited all over the ugly green carpet.

He didn't cry until he was out in the forest because he didn't think he could make it home.

The next morning he found himself laying on the mossy ground a mile from home with a jostled memory and three bucks to his name. Damn did a hangover hurt but it was a surface pain, a throb in his head that didn't really leave that spot except to travel to his stomach when he moved too much. It'd never hurt as bad as the bone deep stabbing spreading through his mind as he stumbled back home with bad memories as company.

 

***

 

"Hey, Darleeeeena!" A sickly sweet sing song voice mocked behind him. School had never been fun for Daryl, with his frequent injuries rising questions and his even more frequent absences getting him stuck seeing a school counsellor once a month it was just day after day of lies. He didn't want friends, didn't need em, so besides this one little blonde two years younger than him that smiled and waved he had no one. Most everyone would leave him be, except a couple of jock like boys who thought they were hot shit because their daddy's could buy them fancy convertibles and could sweet talk their way out of anything just because of their social status. Daryl bet they hadn't fought a real fight once in their life despite all their tough talk. That's where they would fuck up because all Daryl had done his whole life was fight, fight for his life, fight his father, fight himself and all the sharp claws trying to grab hold and drag him down.

"Hey, girl, we're talkin' to ya!" One shouted over his friends snickering.

"Yeah, get back here ya lil tramp!" And that time it was a little bit closer. His pace quickened, drumming against the sidewalk. He was fucked if this went down here, this road was a straight stretch of nothing but alleys and old building, the bad part of town you had to pass through to get to the little lot Daryl lived on. The space too far away from the school for help and too far away from the house for Merle to hear. Royally fucked.

"Girl!" The boys yelled slurs that consisted of a mix of sexism, homophobia, and transphobia. Stupid fuckin small town in Georgia, why did he have to live here of all places.

The footsteps sped up with his own until they were all running, the boys whooping and hollering like a couple of hunting dogs on a racoon's trail. Daryl took a sharp left into a dark alley, hoping he could lose them in the maze then break free onto the other side of these buildings that was miles of fields and woodland. His feet pounded against the cement but what he hadn't counted on was the rock hurdled into the back of his knee. A sharp exhale cut frown his lungs as he went down, scrapping his knees and palms on the rough concrete.

"Woo! Got 'er!" The first voice yelled like this was some sort of sick game.

"Wha' ya wanna do to her Tom?" The second voice taunted from somewhere above Daryl.

"Let's teach this bitch a lesson, we don' want no thing like her in our town." Presumably Tom answered, bringing the count up to three to one. Rough hands grabbed either of his arms and tugged him to his feet, pinning him where he stood, Daryl clenched his jaw and glared from under his bangs at 'Tom' standing in front of him. The kid was stocky and short, cropped red hair and brutal green eyes.

"Now, Darleena, if ya admit how fucked up ya are we might just go easier on ya." Tom took a step closer as if to threaten.

" _Fuck. You_." He snarled slowly before spitting straight at the rich boys face. Tom made a disgusted noise, recoiling, before charging forward and in a blur striking once, twice, three times. Daryl knew he'd be on the ground right now if it wasn't for the two on either side of him holding him somewhat upright after every blow. Once to the eye, twice to the stomach, and one last uppercut to his jaw to knock him unconscious.

 

***

 

He didn't know how long he was out but the rocks grinding into his back woke him to the sound of voices mumbling overhead.

"I don't think we should be takin it this far, i mean, beatin' 'im up was enough man." That was definitely voice two. In his daze he could see the outline of the one who was speaking, just a blur but he could make out dark hair and the muscular shape of the offender.

"I gotta agree with S here Tom, it was fun at first yknow, freakin her out but beatin' her up was way enough. I mean what if my pop finds out bout this?"

"Stop bein' such a pussy! We're just takin her out here ta yknow hide the evidence, if some redneck trash 'falls down a well' ain't nobody gonna care anyways." Tom growled from somewhere ahead. Now Daryl was getting a faint grasp on what was happening here, two of them S and nameless were dragging him by his arms along the ground of a field while Tom was leading the way. The way to where they planned to dump him to die like they were dropping off some trash at the dump. Only after hearing that he wasn't going to no dump, they were taking him to the old well on Mr. Greene's farm. He wasn't stupid enough to think he'd survive that fall into god knows how much water in the middle of nowhere, especially now that he could see the light fading away to dusk. It was now or never to act.

"I dunno man, wha' bout Merle, he's one tough sonuvabitch an i sure as hell don't want him trackin' me down lookin' for blood!" Nameless called out in a distressed cry on his left.

"Yeah fuck that Tom, do it yerself I'm not puttin' my ass on the line for yer ugly self." S stopped dragging him a little before Nameless did, resulting on his arms being tugged two different ways. It took all he had not to scream out there.

"Just fuckin' help me get her over there its two feet fer god sake." Tom shouted while stomping his foot like some kid having a temper tantrum. All he could assume is that the two gave in due to heavy sighs from each and the dragging starting up again. His only chance to get out would be now. In an instant he went from still to thrashing, kicking wildly and tugging his bruised body in odd angles like a rabid animal.

"LET ME GO!" He screamed in a voice that wasn't his own, strangled and hoarse like the dying call of something inhuman. The hands tightened around his arms instinctively to keep him still, maybe out of fear. It didn't last long because they all stilled at the click of a gun and the sight of the cold metal of it aiming right at Tom's skull.

"Now you boys let him go right now." The stern voice thundered at the end of the old hunting rifle, not something you'd expect coming from the kind looking old man who lived on the property Daryl now realized they were all technically trespassing on.

"But sir-" Tom started, sounding like he was about to shit himself.

"No buts Tom, I wonder how your father will feel about this mindless violence, or maybe your sweet sick mother."

Daryl was dropped to the hard earth as the other two boys took off before they could be scolded like Tom was being, and when Mr. Greene lowered his gun Tom took off just as fast as the rest to the sound of the elderly man yelling.

"And I best not catch you on my property again!" That deep voice lowered to something more parent like than Daryl had ever hear in his short life. "Can you stand up son? Let's get you inside and have a look at these injuries."

For some reason he felt safe as the stranger pulled him to his feet again.

 

***

 

Mr. Greene he found out had two daughters, one of which turned out to be the small blonde, Beth, who waved in the halls. Maggie was a girl he recognized from a few parties he was dragged to, she gave him a sympathetic smile and was gone. Everything in the Greene household felt so much like home, or at least what Daryl thought it would feel like, all warm with open doors and feeling full of life even with just the four of them. Nothing like the hollow bones of his trailer. After Mr. Greene patched him up with a lot of stitches, even more bandages, and a couple Advil he crashed on the couch to the muffled sound of voices, just talking, not yelling.

He could almost forget about the ache deep inside him for once.


	4. [2 years before]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was pretty hard to write for me so I want y'all to be careful reading it okay? There's a big part of this that involves sexual assault and the result of it. If this will trigger you stop reading when someone named Charlotte is introduced. 
> 
> Any mistakes are mine, if you see something it would be awesome if you could point it out as I'm writing this all on an ipod.
> 
> Tw for this chapter: Transphobia, sexual assault (i'm not sure if this is the right term to use in this case, if it's not please correct me), panic attacks, underage drinking, child abuse, self esteem issues

December 19th, 2 years before

 

At 15 he made home for himself deep in the heart of the Greene family, and they welcomed him with open arms. He smoked a little less but found himself spending most weekends with a bottle of some cheap liquor in his hand, passed between himself and Maggie to the sound of her old tapes or sometimes Beth practicing guitar through the walls. He learned to fight better than any boy in his school and put the skill to use, no one fucked with him as he stood with bloody knuckles, his eyes a threat. The anxiety in the pit of his stomach fluttered and grew as he did and habits formed to keep the demons at bay. His father drank more when his uncle died. They all gave him sad looks like they knew. He got better at hiding the bruises.

 

 

***

 

 

Weekend sleepovers became week long events at the Greene house and Daryl gained two sisters he didn't know he needed. Maggie and him made a silent agreement when they caught each other sitting on the roof late at night, Daryl brought the stolen cigarettes and Maggie supplied shitty alcohol and good tunes. She eventually worked it into the deal he had to talk to her about something personal for at least 30 minutes because it was 'unfair' she had to do two things and him only one. Somehow, with her, he didn't mind.

Beth, he learned, went on a lot of innocent dates with a lot of not so innocent guys and came home crying a lot. One ran into his girlfriend on the date, Daryl let him go on a warning, another said she wasn't hot enough for him and to be grateful, that one found his backpack thrown through a wood chipper courtesy of Maggie, and the most recent had tried to sleep with Beth and when she said no had kicked her out on the side of the road at night, he came to school the next day with the living shit beaten out of him.

Hershel saw him as a son, how? Daryl would never know, he was fucked up and a bad influence, a redneck with no future. They always told him otherwise and he didn't understand that even more. When he took a particularly nasty fall walking around at night, right down a steep hill and into the rocky stream below, Hershel had found out. The religious man he was sure would kick him right out and tell him he was going to hell but instead the man who was the only good father figure in his life simply ignored the binder around Daryl's chest as he made quick work of stitching his wounded ribs. When Daryl nervously asked between cracking his knuckles if Hershel knew what the binder meant he replied calmly.

"Yes, and it doesn't make any damn difference to me son, no body part will ever define who you are. I always tell my daughters what counts is inside anyways."

Daryl had to try real hard not to cry like a little baby because he never felt so accepted before.

 

***

 

Life started to take a turn for the good when Hershel handed him a small card with only a name and number on it at breakfast one day.

"What's this?" He questioned while flipping it around in his hands looking for any indication of why it might be. His food lay abandoned as his interest shifted completely to the piece of paper.

"I was talking to an old colleague of mine from vet school, she became a doctor five years back and as it turns out she specializes in Hormone Replacement Therapy." The older man gave him a soft smile and a pat on his back in passing as he made way for the coffee machine Maggie was standing next to, grinning at him knowingly around a spoonful of milk and marshmallows picked out of the box. He and Beth didn't like the sugary pieces anyways so she got away with it.

Right before he could start thanking Hershel profusely Beth piped up from the other end of the table, mouth full of bland cereal.

"What's Hormone whatever Therapy?" Maggie spit out her own 'cereal' while trying to contain laughter, almost snorting milk out of her nose as she leaned over the sink for support, all the while getting a dirty look from Beth for it.

Daryl blushed hard and prepared for the talk he'd have to have later but for now they all laughed until their stomaches hurt while Beth looked at them like they'd all lost it. His eyes watered and ribs ached for all the right reasons this time.

 

***

 

The first time Daryl was with a woman it was because Merle had nagged him into it after a couple drinks in a bar he wasn't legally allowed to be in, way under the legal drinking age. He somehow convinced him to go out, and Daryl gave in because honestly he was kind of neglecting his brother as of late, seeing as he was gone about ninety precent of the time. It was the middle of winter and yet the place was packed.

An hour in they moved to the far back, Daryl's hands sweating as he gripped the fake ID in his pocket and stared at the busty redhead leaning over the table and sending a wink his way. She had swayed up to the table, conveniently, mere moments after Merle brought up that Daryl needed to 'get a little action', whatever that meant. The two spoke in hushed tones Daryl couldn't hear over the noise of the bar costumers before she perked up and seemed to notice him for the first time.

"This that lil brother you been tellin' be about Merle, dang is he ever a cute one." She held her hand out in his direction which he looked down at in confusion before giving her a firm handshake. She threw her head back in an almost obnoxious laugh. "Oh yer funny. Names Charlotte, hon, an' yer brother here has told me a lot about ya Daryl."

"Yup," Merle slapped him hard on the back and grinned widely before leaning in closer to whisper. "An' she knows about yer 'situation', don' worry bout that she says she goes either way so it ain't a problem fer her!"

Charlotte was somehow leaning even closer over the table and Daryl didn't even want to know what the rest of the bar was seeing, what with her mini skirt already leaving nothing at all the the imagination as it rode up around her thighs. She nodded enthusiastically at him and smiled like a wolf. And, damn, did he ever feel like a sheep right now.

"Cmon, let see whatcha got _Daryl_." She purred out his name like sin, rounding the table and reaching for his hand again, this time clasping it firmly in hers and pulling him up from the hard leather bench. Merle took the liberty to shove a shot his away enthusiastically before he was drawn away. He downed it gratefully.

"Where are we-?" A finger was pushed to his lips in a 'shh' gesture.

"Nowhere far." He gave Merle his best pleading look which got him two thumbs up and way to large of a smile for the situation. Turning back around he let himself be led around the corner to the sound of his brother whistling and yelling lewd comments. Charlotte gave him reassuring smirks a couple times on their short walk which turned out to end in the destination of the ladies washroom.

"I-i can't go in there yknow." Daryl started as he tried to pull his hand from her grasp, palms unattractively slick with nervous sweat.

"Don't worry baby, there ain't gonna be anyone in there but us anyways." Her long fingers opening the door with cat like motion, a predatory glint in her eyes as she drew him into the empty room. She was right on nobody being in the cramped room thankfully, the only two stall doors hanging wide open. Charlotte leaned back heavily against the door as the distinct click of it locking echoed against the walls.

"Lets get this started then, huh?" Her hand cupped the side of his face, slim fingers brushing against his skin as she rubbed in circles.

"Ya ever done anything, yknow _intimate_ , with anyone before Daryl?" The space between them closed farther when she pushed off the door and her body softly collided with his.

"Nah." He replied shortly, finding it hard to swallow with all of the contact. He hunched over farther as his skin started to itch. Her hands griping his belt loops didn't help the proximity issue.

"Good, i'll give ya the best first anyones ever had." Her smile turned wicked as her hands went to the bottom of her tight black tank top, crisscrossed arms pulling the fabric up over her head and swinging it around a few times before letting it fly to the side. All that she wore was that tight skirt and a silky lace bra. "I find it pretty hot ya used ta be a lady yknow, i bet ya can please a woman real good."

"I- um- what're ya doin'." Charlotte was reaching behind her and in one fast motion that lacy bra was falling off her shoulders and to his feet. All he could do was look down at it and gulp.

"Well?" She prompted making his eyes snap up to her again. Her hands grabbed his and pulled them to her breasts. "Nice or what?"

"Lady yer crazy." He drew his hands back like he'd been burned, shaking like it too.

"I've been told that once er twice. Why don't ya let me prove how crazy I am to ya?" She was on him in a second, lips pressed firm to his own and twisting to push him back against the wall. She used her mouth to open his lips and attack him with her tongue before placing open mouthed kisses all down his jaw and onto his neck.

"Stop." His scared back hurt against the brick wall and his stomach churned from the touch. It wasn't right, _it wasn't right_. She wasn't stopping, god damn it.

"Please. Stop." He choked out, eyes screwed shut against the warm sensation of her lips on his collarbone. "Please."

"Don' worry baby. I got ya, make ya feel so good." She trailed her hands down Daryl's body and into his waistband, hovering just above the top of his boxers. Before she could advance any further he keeled over on the floor and emptied his stomach inches from her nice heels.

"Ew! That ain't any way treat a lady, after all I did for ya!" Charlotte huffed, angrily pulling back on her clothes and exiting. The door slamming was too loud. He didn't know how long he sat there, breathing harshly and dry heaving, tears streaming down his cheeks before Merle burst through the door.

"Oh, baby brother. Fuck." Merle was at his side instantly, pulling him into a side hug and whispering comforts as Daryl buried his head in his brothers shoulder. Eventually his breathing evened out with Merle reciting the panic attack tips he'd printed out at the local library.

"That bitch, i swear to god-" He'd say in between, starting the sentence ten times over and never finishing it. Daryl sobbed all over both their clothes and tried not to think about how wrong dainty hands and soft curves had felt as they were pushed onto him.

 

***

 

After the Charlotte incident he drew into himself again, ruining any progress he made after meeting the Greene's. He cursed himself out because he was finally starting to feel normal, but now he was back to flinching at every touch and slipping into silence. School became little of a concern, and who was he kidding, how was he supposed to show up the wreck he was? Merle had kept him in the woods a few nights right after it happened but as always they eventually had to go home to their fathers unkind hands and bloodshot eyes, it didn't take long for Will to wrap his hands around Daryl's throat and bruise his skin as punishment for something Daryl didn't even know he did.

He didn't complain because it was much better than hard leather laying into his back.

 

***

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me if something i include is problematic, there are some touchy subjects in here and i tried my hardest but I'm no expert so please leave a comment if you see something so i can correct anything that might be offensive! 
> 
> \----  
> Updates are gonna be pretty random.  
> Thank you for any Kudos or Comments, i appreciate them a lot!! Feedback is very welcome.
> 
> \----  
> The walking dead and characters belong to their creator, I claim no rights.


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